


Morning

by Rainfallen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainfallen/pseuds/Rainfallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Somewhere in an inn on the road north a few years in the future, Arya wakes Gendry early in the morning.</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In case you missed it above: this contains explicit sexual content.  In fact, it contains little else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning

The first white light of dawn had barely washed across the sky when cold fingers shoving at his shoulder prodded Gendry from sleep.  He was warm and comfortable and not truly awake, but he rolled over compliantly, a soft protest on his lips, and settled back into the straw mattress of the inn.  The heavy furs shifted and the straw crackled, and before his sleepy mind could gather the wits tell her to stop wriggling and weaseling around, the cold fingers were back, pressed uncomfortably hard into his abdomen. 

"Arya—" he groaned in complaint, but the furs shifted off him entirely and an unexpected weight settled on his thighs.  His eyes finally cracked open unwillingly, and he sucked in a breath.   

"Shut up," she told him, with one hand planted on his stomach to steady herself and the other tugging at the lacings of his breeches which already lay loosened for comfort in sleeping. 

"Arya," he said again, alarm washing warm up his body.  He wrapped a hand around her wrist and made to jerk it away, but she twisted out of his grip and slipped her hand between the layers of thick cloth.   Her quick fingers circled his cock before he could catch the breath in his throat, and, sliding her hand up slowly from the base, she coaxed it from his breeches before finally sparing his face a glance. 

Gendry hissed through his teeth and stared at her: bewildered, censorious, and ( _sweet merciful gods_ ) _hard_.   Arya stared back, her hand still wrapped around him and a look on her face that he couldn't quite pinpoint.  "What – stop that," he said, his voice weak and creaky as an old board. 

Quick as a cat she moved; suddenly her thighs were sliding over his, her hands were pressed down hard on his shoulders, and her face hovered scant inches above his.  "Why?" she asked, her breath and her hair tickling his chin.  "You want this, don't you?"  She rocked her hips against his and Gendry's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open for the briefest moment.  Arya didn't waste a moment waiting for the denial that would not come, but pushed herself up on knobby knees, hooked her fingers inside the waist of his breeches, and yanked them down hard, rocking his hips with her thighs to ease their passing.

He watched, dazed from sleep, stunned into passivity, and breathing too hard, as she settled over him.  Her hair was pulled into her normal messy braid, and the few strands that escaped in the night fell dark across her face.  She wore a linen tunic that was far too large for her, a dull muted grey in daylight that shone almost translucent now in the pearly light of early morning.  It brushed against the tops of his thighs as she took his cock in her hand again, and he shivered. 

She pressed her free hand against his chest to steady herself, and he gripped her wrist tight in his hand as she bit down on her bottom lip and slid down over him.  _A dream_ , he thought wildly.  _This makes no sense, it must be a dream_.   A groan wrenched from his chest as the slick heat of her surrounded him, and his thoughts narrowed to the feel of her, the way she looked above him, and the absurdity and impropriety didn't matter, and he didn't care as long as she didn't stop.   She stilled for a moment when he was fully inside her and then flexed, the soft sound of her breath creating a chorus with his own.  Gendry arched his back and lifted his hips to hers almost involuntarily, and the faintest wisp of a smile flickered at the corner of her lips. 

His free hand scrabbled up the front of her tunic, and he gripped a fistful of the loose folds of fabric.  Arya's fingers were cold on his chest but she was _so_ warm everywhere else and he was dizzy and floating and it was _Arya, Arya,_ only her.  She slid up his length and slammed back down on him, and then again, and again, her eyes holding steady on his.  But whatever confusion she saw there displeased her, and she leaned down on her elbows and pressed her chapped lips against his rough jaw.  "You were moaning in your sleep," she whispered, not ceasing the maddening rise and fall.  His hands found her hips and held them tight, a muted gasp escaping his lips when she clenched around him. 

"Yes," she said, "Moaning like that into my ear with your arm around me and your cock pressing against my arse.  And then you said my name and I'd had enough waiting."

He bit back the hot rush of shame.  "Arya," he said again through clenched teeth, because he knew it would only please her.  Her soft hum and the press of her lips next to his ear told him he was right. 

She slid upright again with a fluid grace that took his breath, even now, when her thighs and her hands and her cunt were clenched tight around him and he could scarcely utter an intelligible word.  His hands found their way under her tunic and then any coherent thought was lost in the feel of her around him and atop him, her skin warm and pliant under his hands.  Every time she rose, he thrust his hips up to meet her, and they rocked together in an unsteady rhythm. 

"Tell me," she demanded, breathless as she moved faster, "Tell me that you wanted to fuck me."

Gendry's rough hands slid up her slender ribcage and cupped around her breasts.  He rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger and her moan sent a surge of heat shooting down from his belly to the base of his cock.  "No – you tell me – you wanted me – to fuck you," he panted, suddenly emboldened by her response. 

She bent her face low again and hissed at him, "Except _I'm_ fucking _you_ , stupid."

Gendry shook his head with a breathless smile and wrapped his hands around the hem of her tunic.  When she moved upright again, he slid the garment over her head, tangled his hands into her hair, and pulled her right back down, her face to his. 

He caught a brief glimpse of her wide eyes before he pressed his lips to hers.  Her rocking hips stilled and her lips parted in a small intake of breath.  _Leave it to Arya to get everything backwards_.  As many times as he had imagined it, he never expected their first kiss to be like this: rushed and belated and _naked in bed_ with his cock deep inside her, but somehow in that instant it was everything he wanted.  Gendry smiled against her mouth and pulled her hard against him.  It took her only scant seconds to adjust, and then she was kissing him back, hard and hot and as wild as everything she ever did, lips sliding possessively over his mouth, and teeth teasing his lips, and the tip of her tongue dancing hot against his.   

He broke away from her and turned far enough to speak.  As Arya moved to drop light kisses along his jaw and up to his ear, he struggled to form the words.  "You want me to fuck you?" he asked hoarsely. 

Her exhaled "yes" was muffled and soft against his neck, but it was all he needed.  Gendry pushed her back up on her knees and then rose to meet her.  She reached for him then, but his hands gripped hard at her hips and he twisted her over and pushed her down on her knees.  He slipped an experimental hand between her thighs, running rough fingers over hot wet skin, and Arya pressed her arse back against him with a harsh, needy sound.  By now he was as impatient as she, so he did not linger.  He bent over her back as he pushed slowly into her, and touched his forehead briefly between the sharp points of her shoulder blades.  "As m'lady commands, then," he whispered against her skin.

A frustrated growl rumbled in her throat, and Gendry smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her heated skin before straightening.  He curled his hands around her hips as he inched out of her, then jerked them back flush against him, the movement fierce and quick.  Arya gasped and rocked against him as he moved in and out of her, and here, at last, they found a steady rhythm of motion.  She dropped her head to rest between her elbows on the mattress, little noises slipping from her lips and driving his thrusts harder and faster.  The fire in the pit of his stomach had built to a raging inferno, with crackling tendrils of pleasure shooting throughout his body.  He slid a hand around her, up her stomach to her chest, and brushed the side of his thumb across her hardened nipple.  At the touch, Arya rose off the mattress with a keening moan, her back arching and arms shaking.  She was almost impossibly wet, and he could feel her begin to tighten around him, the flutter of her muscles tugging and sucking at his cock with gratifying insistence.  Her gasping moans were punctuated by the slap of flesh on flesh as Gendry  rolled her nipple between his fingers and drove his cock into her again and again, so fast and hard his hips ached from the effort of it.  And then her tremoring muscles clenched so tight Gendry thought he might lose his mind, and just as she began to still and sink back down onto her elbows, he shuddered and spent himself inside her with a burst of heat and light behind the eyes and white-hot pleasure spreading from his core outward to his limbs.   

As he braced himself on unsteady arms and struggled to catch his breath, Arya slid her body from his and melted against the mattress.  Despite the cool air, her hair was stuck to her face, and her skin glowed with a sheen of sweat under the early morning sun.  He had never seen anything so beautiful in his twenty years. 

Her eyes and tone both softer than he was used to as she said, "Come here, then," and pulled him down beside her.  She shifted and pressed her back to his chest, letting her head loll back against his shoulder and her eyes drop shut. 

Gendry pressed a kiss to her temple as he scooted flush against her, and then let an arm drape heavily over her waist.   "Isn't laying like this how you said all that started?" he asked, too innocent.

"Shut up, Gendry," Arya said, but she slipped her fingers between his and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> [My lady Daria made art that fits this perfectly, so go look at it and praise her. ](http://sabotensan.tumblr.com/post/63185830868/basically-i-am-daring-enough-to-draw-g-x-a-smut)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://sergendry.tumblr.com) if you're so inclined.


End file.
